well-dressed foolish ideas

There are well-dressed foolish ideas, just as there are well-dressed fools.
- Sebastien Chamfort

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Monday, November 08, 2004

Marmalade suns and crescent moons

Sunsets were always really one of my favorite times of the day, but more than that, a sunrise always got to me. I used to drive to a hilltop before sunrise, hop onto the hood and watch as the tendrils of the sun curled their way across the sky in crimsons, oranges, pinks and violets, sneaky fingers caressing the world awake. The colors of marmalades spilling across the sky. So bright, so fresh. Serenity and calm overlapping and blanketing my small sleepy hometown with quiet morning. A gentle awakening. For a gentle place.

However, I have to admit that moonrises and moonsets, if there is such a word, strike me most. Somehow the moon and nightsky has a pull on me. It's inexplicable, at least in words. The moon and stars tempt me, somewhat tauntingly, but more encouragingly. "Reach higher," they seem to say. "Set your goals with us," they whisper to me.

For those that don't know me personally (or even those that do and are not yet aware), I have a tattoo on my ankle of a crescent moon and star. About 2 years before I got the tattoo done, I have a distinctly sharp image in my memory that served as inspiration for the tattoo.

I was leaving my mom's house - 17 years old and on my way, at just about twilight, to drink coffee until 2 in the morning with people that I saw all the time. I got to the end of the street, and after performing a proper California stop (roll-through), turned right. And what lay in front of me in the sky was a perfectly centered, perfectly framed by trees on both sides of the street, crescent moon and a twinkling star literally hanging from the bottom tip of the moon. I stopped my car, got out and sat on the hood for a good few minutes, just looking at it. Just remembering it - committing it to memory. The twinkle of the star, the exact hue of the blue twilightened sky. The bright white surface of the moon, in such stark contrast to the darkened leaves and trees reaching out from their perches alongside the road.

When I got home at 2 that morning, I still had the image of the moon and star burned into my brain. I could still see it. And I remember 2 hours later being awakened by my mom, taking my dad to the hospital. Saying goodbye to him a mere few hours before he left this world.

And every time I take that turn when I'm in the States, I can still see the moon in my field of vision. It's crystal clear. Hanging in the sky, bright, full of promise and beautiful. Just thinking about it, I have to smile.

I just looked out the window, and the golden-red leaves on the walls of the building on the opposite side of the road are all gone. It also started to snow heavily. Then I turned to your diary and read your entry. Stop making a grown man want to cry, dammit! ;)- tobe